Love Betwixt Universes

There has always been something alluring about a love that must transverse, or transcend between two, unlike universes. The fictional stories abound, Beauty and the Beast, Cinderella, Avatar and several within Greek mythology of mortals engaged, romantically with immortals . . . to name a few. More recently it has been girl meets vampire type of stories.  In reality, there are some other examples (Grace Kelly and the Prince of Monaco).  While such loves enchant us, in reality they come with complications, which the fairy tales don't even pretend to address.

I remember having a beer with a young Navigator staff guy, Dave, in a foreign country. He was betrothed to a national girl. The elder staff guy was delighted in the match, a match literally (in his eyes) made in Heaven. I was a little uncomfortable with the arrangement because Dave was young (22 I think) wet behind the ears and was only in the country for a year.  The senior Nav staff guy thought it was wonderful that one of their new converts was going to marry a "godly man" something the girl would have a hard time finding among her own people.  I looked at their roots. The southern, what you might call red neck, guy and a girl from a Muslim world and who had never even been outside her country.

After sipping his beer Dave said to me, "I'm being attacked by Satan."

"Why's that?" I asked.

"I feel that I don't love or even know Mona . . . and we are getting married in two months.  I know that God has brought us together, so these doubts are Satanic attacks."

I could try and deconstruct that thinking but that would side-track me. I will simply say that I told Dave to cancel the wedding. He said to do so would be an act of disobedience to God.  He married her. I lost contact with them and have no clue as to how they are doing.

After that long introduction, the thing I wanted to explore is within my personal world.  My wife, Denise, and I have entered different universes . . . yet we still love each other. Finding resolution in these situations are hard.  I guess I'm the beast in this story . . .  certainly not the charming prince, or even the prince of Monaco. I'm too the mortal.

When we first met, thirty years ago, she was a Midwest Lutheran who just recently discovered evangelicalism through Inner Varsity Fellowship.  I, on the other hand, was born in the Bible belt, raised as a Baptist (and taught that Lutherans weren't real Christians). Then I had just spent eight years with intense training with the Navigators.  I had not kissed a girl since I was 17 and when I met Denise I was 24. At the time we met, I was in frankly living in a evangelical monastery. We didn't associate with women. We spent our days praying and memorizing verses, if not sharing the Gospel.

When we first got married, Denise felt intimidated by my "spirituality."  I saw  myself as a godly man and she did too. But then things changed. Over the years I've pulled her deeper and deeper into Evangelism.  For a few years of bliss we were both at the center of it and "equally yoked."  But then came the age of my great disillusionment.  It came in step by step fashion. It took me twenty years to complete my fall.

So, it has been a year and a half since I left our evangelical church. I had no choice. I'm so glad I did.  It was a no-brainer for me to go. But, equally, it was a no-brainer for her to stay.  Her closes friends go to that church. She still believes all that makes up that culture.  She honestly enjoys the Sunday morning service, the praise singing and respects the pastor . . . the same one which came to my house in a fit of rage screaming at me when he found out I was leaving his church.  It was a painful chapter. There is no resolution. Humpty Dumpty can't be reassembled. Maybe if we were to move to a far away place we could find a meeting place between us, at a Lutheran church. But for now it is learning art of loving in dissonance.

I remember Mike Spencer sharing a glimpse of the turmoil of his heart when his wife, also Denise, joined the Catholic Church. He couldn't get his head around it.  But he loved her as she did him. They had to find this place of mutual respect for each other.

So my Denise and I are striving to bridge this gap.  It can't be resolved mechanically. I would make a miserable evangelical. She doesn't see the point of my transition out of it. But, we love each other . . . we must love each other . . . across the great chasm and through the interface between matter and antimatter.